


Olisbos

by makesometime



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, Dildos, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: She marvels, not for the first time, that one of Sparta’s greatest officers allows himself to be so openly vulnerable around her. Exposed, entirely, and at the mercy of her and a honed piece of leather, Brasidas lies with his eyes closed, his chest heaving and his lip caught between his teeth.It thrills her. It makes her halfway desperate and they haven’t even begun.





	Olisbos

**Author's Note:**

> ... 
> 
> ...
> 
> Look, I'm sorry okay.
> 
> I saw the chance to indulge one of my biggest secret kinks and took it. I apologise to anyone who speaks Greek that I basically just called this DILDO and went on my merry way. I'm not proud.
> 
> This is filth, pure and simple. Look upon (all) my italics ye mighty, and despair.

Kassandra settles back on her heels, smoothing the palm of her hand over her knee. She finds herself uncharacteristically nervous, set on edge by anticipation. It’s a feeling she hasn’t experienced for many years, has no care to put herself through unnecessarily.

Except, she supposes, for moments like this.

Brasidas lays out beside her, one arm folded beneath his head, one leg pulled up so that his foot rests upon the bed. By rights it is a relaxed position, one she has seen him take many times before. If only she didn’t know him well enough to recognise his own unease.

“This was your idea.” She murmurs, her tone quietly teasing.

Brasidas laughs, smoothing a hand down his front to rest low on his stomach, just above where he lays half-hard against his thigh.

“Yet I recall _you_ saying surely it was my turn?”

She feels the corner of her mouth tick up in a smirk. She _had_ said that. And she’d meant it, despite being completely insensible with the after effects of an orgasm at the time.

She turns the _olisbos_ over and over in her other hand, playing with it like she might a small dagger. The leather is warmer now, heated by the feverish touch of her skin. Well suited to its eventual use. She reaches out to stroke a hand over his cock, watching the pleased twist of his lips, how his hips lift into her stimulation.

“Is this new to you?” She asks, casual as if she isn’t working him to full hardness.

He shakes his head, bringing his hand to cover hers, guiding her to hold him tighter. “No. Is it to you?”

Kassandra smiles, setting the _olisbos_ to one side and moving to lean over him, their joined hands moving a steady pace. “It is not, Spartan.”

Brasidas lifts his head to steal her lips, chuckling softly into the kiss. “Then I am in good hands.”

With a soft hum, she breaks away, reaching over to fetch up the small _aryballos_ of oil. Settling back (and taking another kiss on her way), Kassandra settles herself more comfortably at Brasidas’ side. She leaves him to choose whether or not to keep touching himself, tipping a few drops of oil onto the fingertips of her right hand and rubbing them together.

Prepared, she reaches out to take him in hand once more, the oil smoothing the pass of her hand over his heated skin. “Legs up and out, soldier.”

Brasidas groans at the gentle press of her thumb over the head of his cock, allowing his legs to fall open. With her free hand, Kassandra grabs a small rolled up pelt and urges him to lift his hips for her to set it beneath, hitching him just enough for her to work with. 

She marvels, not for the first time, that one of Sparta’s greatest officers allows himself to be so openly vulnerable around her. Exposed, entirely, and at the mercy of her and a honed piece of leather, Brasidas lies with his eyes closed, his chest heaving and his lip caught between his teeth.

It thrills her. It makes her halfway desperate and they haven’t even begun.

Letting his cock rest thick against his stomach, she renews the lubrication on her fingers and strokes her fingers over the soft skin behind his balls. Brasidas shifts, gasping, as she moves her index finger to stroke lower, prodding, teasing and slowly easing inside.

She allows Brasidas to guide her movements, pressing forward and pulling back in time with his sighs, the way he arches his back. When he frowns, she stills, watching his face for any discomfort, only to see him crack open an eye and smirk, urging his hips up into her touch.

Adding more oil, caring not for the mess, Kassandra slides a second finger alongside the first, opening him further. She takes it slow, so very slow, enjoying the journey, enjoying every sound she wrings from her lover, from increasingly deep inside his chest.

She hears her name, mixed in with the breathless moans, longing and wanting. She gives him a third finger, knowing they’re on the cusp of taking it further, so long as she does her job properly. 

She presses higher, searching…

Brasidas shouts, bucking up into her touch. Kassandra hides a smile in her shoulder, watching his face as she massages her fingers across the point that has sweat beading over his chest, his shoulders. His forehead lined with effort, as he tries to resist and seek out more all at once.

“Patience…” She says quietly, before drawing her fingers out of him. 

His only response is a halfway-agonised groan. Any other time she might call it begging. Reducing the Spartan hero to desperation… It feels better than she can put into words.

It’s simple to lose herself in observing him as she slicks up the leather toy. Eyes screwed shut, his cock flushed and weeping against his belly, he looks ruined already and they’ve barely even started. He pants, trying to regain some semblance of control over his breathing, and his eyes blink open to find her pumping her palm slowly up and down the _olisbos_.

“Woman, you will send me to Hades before my time.” He groans, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes. 

Kassandra swallows a laugh, reaching down to paint more oil across him, cautious of being too hasty. She cannot help but stare as she finally presses the _olisbos_ into him, the stretch of it, the way his cock jumps needily as she slowly, _slowly_ fills him.

Brasidas stills, grunting when the toy brushes deep enough. It’s almost animalistic, the sounds she draws from him, something primal about the movement of her hand, the way he rocks with her. 

For the briefest of moments her mind trips to wishing for even more control, to take him as thoroughly as he takes her.

Her lover curses, drawing her back to herself, a stream of filth from his lips that has her shifting, trying to ease the pressure growing between her thighs. A part of her wants to take him in hand but she knows that might be too _much_. She flexes her wrist, twisting the _olisbos_ and chewing her lip when Brasidas writhes. 

He’s so close she can almost see the thread of his control, fraying and ready to snap.

She watches, fascinated, as Brasidas scratches his blunt nails into his thigh, arching down onto the _olisbos_ and shouting her name, his cock jerking. She stares as he remains hard, no spend painting his stomach. She could have been sure…

“Kassandra.” He breathes on a wrecked voice, cock standing proud and red against his belly. “Ride me.”

Eyes locked with his, she lifts onto her knees, leaving the _olisbos_ in place. She settles her weight over him, moaning softly at the way Brasidas blinks hazily up at her as she takes his cock and guides it inside her. 

He feels somehow larger than usual as she sinks down on him, his skin heated to the point of absurdity. Flushed and hard, he fills her so perfectly that she almost doesn’t want to move, her head tipped back, hands braced on his chest.

“ _Please_ , my heart.”

Kassandra shivers all over, rolling her hips down hard at the broken begging. It will not take much to tip her over, her slick melding with his and making the friction almost non-existent. She takes him, completely and thoroughly, owning both of their pleasure entirely.

Brasidas tugs her down, making her collide with his chest hard enough force the breath from her lungs but then he is kissing her, hungry, desperate and she cannot find conscious thought in between the _feeling_ , the sensation.

Brasidas tears his mouth away to roar out his completion, Kassandra biting hard as his collarbone as she follows right after, feeling him pulse and spill inside her. She chokes on a laugh when he continues to pump his hips wearily, filling her up to the point of ridiculousness. 

It’s easy to lose track of time in the afterglow. She is dimly aware that the world outside of their windows dark now, Selene replacing her brother in the sky.

“I’m almost afraid to move.” Kassandra says eventually, feeling the slickness gather between them as he slips from her body. 

Brasidas coughs, weakly, pressing a smile to her temple. “I feel as though I should apologise.”

Pressing up, she folds her arms across his upper chest, staring down at him. He hasn’t ever looked so alive and wrecked all at once, hair askew, forehead damp. She could be drawn to claiming he has never looked more handsome, either.

“I think we can bear joint responsibility.”

Brasidas topples her softly onto her back, reaching down between her thighs and cursing harshly as his fingers paint her skin with the remains of his spend. “Kassandra…” He murmurs, cut off from speaking further by her fingers against his lips. She doesn’t need to hear any more.

“I’ll fetch a cloth.”

She watches will dull amusement as he eases himself off of the bed, moving into the other room with a tentative gait. The moonlight hits his skin lovingly, but lights upon the bed as well, _olisbos_ abandoned amongst the mess they’ve caused.

Kassandra chuckles, propping her head up on her hand and waiting for Brasidas to return to her. He hesitates in the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the room. His stunned expression melts quickly into renewed, but tired, hunger.

“When do you want to do this again?” She purrs, a poor attempt at seduction when they are both covered in sweat and spend.

Brasidas laughs. “I fear I need time to recover from this, first.”

As he sets to tenderly cleaning her, Kassandra cups his cheek and tries to steer her mind away from considering how she might affix the _olisbos_ to some strapping, next time…

“You look as if you are plotting something.”

Kassandra grins, stroking her thumb over his lower lip. “Me? Never. I am innocent as a lamb.”

Brasidas’ snort of derision is all it takes to set her laughing. He finishes tidying and surveys the bed with a frown. The cogs turn over in his mind, and then he reaches a hand out for her. “Come. We can use the other room. This is a problem too large for my weary mind to handle.”

Curled into his side once more, Kassandra dances her fingers over his chest. “Thank you, for indulging me.”

Brasidas catches up her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure was, quite literally, all mine.”


End file.
